I have always had an admiration within me for the deep, dark truths that I could extract from traditional stories. There has been one story that has haunted me since I was young; The Princess and The Pea by Hans Christian Anderson. I never quite grasped its’ concept and for some strange reason, I had felt slightly disturbed by this story as a child. As well as this, I began to do some research into Princess Diana’s story and discovered some unsettling reports surrounding the media’s obsession with her virginity. In both The Princess and The Pea and Princess Diana’s life, the idea of sensitivity was vital to their titles as ‘princesses’. Therefore, I have decided to delve into the story and attempt to extract the potential troubling details from The Princess and the Pea that may have unsettled me as a child, as well as amalgamating the royal family as characters.
The quote ‘He’d found the virgin, the sacrificial lamb, and in a way he was obsessed with me.’ is attributed to the historical Diana Spencer in Diana: Her True Story – In Her Own Words by Andrew Morton, 1992.
It was spring but the hot rain was heavy. Pouring from the sky, drops shattering on the ground like glass. The snow of the untainted winter was being washed away, cleansing the earth with the new promise of a wet April to follow. The car slowed, and I was able to catch a glimpse of the towering trees, with morning dew clinging to their new-born leaves, as if they were frightened to fall. With my head pressed against the window, I listened to the sound of the shower and sighed. The feeling of dread stiffened my chest; the imminent knowledge that my lace pink dress was destined to be soaked was looming over me, like the dark clouds that were causing this issue. I hated the rain, yet it was determined to intrude on my day.
The press were already waiting for us outside of the gates, snapping each picture they possibly could and pressing their cameras against the window. ‘Diana, Diana, Diana!’ they whistled. It was getting boring now. Men dressed in black, cameras blocking their face from my gaze, yet I was free to be viewed to the world. I was vulnerable to their sordid stare and I was to stay that way for the rest of my life.
As our car slipped through the gates, the flashing of the cameras faded, and the grand estate was unveiled. Greenery consumed the land, with perfectly trimmed trees at either side of the narrow road. The slender path led us to the castle. With ivy climbing up its’ walls, the palace towered above us; the rooftop gently brushing against the clouds. Its’ sheer size was intimidating, I loathed to return to what lay inside. This was soon to be mine.
Hesitantly, I slid out of the car with my heart racing. Despite the umbrella that was put above my head, raindrops still accomplished to adhere to the pale rose lace that my dress was made of. My throat was tight with concern and the unease was impossible to conceal. The attendant drew an unapproving look as my fingers fidgeted. His look was enough to shoot me into reality. I clasped my hands into an adamantine knot and forced my way up to the imposing door. As I approached closer, the door seemed to grow more immense and more daunting. A worn golden lion doorknocker challenged me one last time before I nodded to the escort and he promptly knocked. A member of staff welcomed me in, she bowed her head and greeted me under her breath. I tried to search for her eyes, to acknowledge her with a smile but her stare was fixated on the ground. My little kitten heels clicked on the hard-wooden flooring, echoing around the empty halls, like a clock ticking away the minutes I was destined to spend alone in this castle full of people, one of them being my future husband.
Followed by a boy who juggled my luggage for me, I was ushered through the castle by another young girl. I opened my mouth to protest as we passed the room in which I usually rest, but I decided against raising any concern; any additional second I was able to snatch with company I would take. The young lady escorted me to the dining room, gently pressing the door open to reveal my fiancé staring out the window to the estate, his back to me. “The Prince has requested to see you ma’am.”
I nodded my head, thanking them for their time and sending them off. The sight of my fiancé surprised me; I didn’t expect to see him during my visit. As I entered the room, he didn’t bother to turn to face me; I did expect that. The light reflecting through the window forced me to squint as it shined on my face, leaving Charles’ mere silhouette a blurry figure.
“Are you a whore, Diana?” He sneered, still refusing to turn around and look at me in my eyes. The word stung like a punch to the gut. I had never been accused of being a whore before. Quite honestly, I had never been terribly offended by the word. However, there was something vile about it coming through his teeth, as though he was spitting poison at me.
“You’ve been reading too many papers,” I chuckled mockingly, trying to conceal that what he had just said to me may have as well been a hand wrapped around my throat. I dragged out one of the arrogant chairs from the table, scratching it along the floor as I did and proceeded to sit down. “I am no whore, Charles.”
“The entire nation can’t get the thought of your legs out of their heads!” He had held the picture against me for almost a year. A photographer had taken a picture of me working at the nursery, just as the sun gleamed on me and by chance, exposed the silhouette of my legs through my skirt. It had made its’ way to every newspaper in the nation. “Your uncle has had to publicly come out and say that you’ve never had a lover.”
“What would you like me to do?”
“Prove it.”
He marched along the corridors, as I trailed along behind him like a little duckling. I had no idea how to prove it. What did it mean? The stubborn determination in his walk and the anger festering behind his eyes indicated that he was going to show me. Despite meeting each other’s height, he had such a way of making me feel so small. My deer eyes widened with apprehension as he advanced towards my usual bedroom door. A storm formed in my iris as the rest of my eyes filled with fear.
This man was one I was supposed to adore and devote to my life to, however something about him deeply unsettled me. I feared him. He was smoke in my lungs. He was a constant restrictive pressure. He had silenced me, I was so frightened to open my mouth in fear that my words would cause a mess, like vomit I just couldn’t swallow down. My breath stank of corruption, his lies and stomach acid. He was ruthless. He had wrapped his claws around me and was tearing me apart, sparing my bones. My stomach churned at the possibilities that could lie past that door.
But he simply pushed open the door, to reveal absolutely nothing. The palatial fourposter bed lay seemingly untouched, the ruby red velvet curtains drawn undisturbed, the chest of drawers were intact. Almost the way I had left them, I felt close to calling them my own. My heart rate diminished and as if a weight had been removed from my chest, I felt able to breathe. I stepped into the room, still cautious of any booby trap that may have been left to punish me for the things I could not control. But there was none.
“You will be staying here.” He grunted, before slamming the door shut behind him and leaving me alone.
It was just midday, but I was already so exhausted from seeing him. The feather bed was calling to me, begging to be filled. My legs longed to feel the silk satin sheets rub against my skin, like a gentle man’s touch. I climbed into bed, burying myself under the sheets in hopes that the world outside would disappear. Yet as I let myself fall into the softness; I was startled by a pain digging into my back. There was an extreme discomfort that wouldn’t allow me to close my eyes. The pain began to increase as I rolled to try to sleep in a different position. Each time I turned, I felt as though I was being punched by a fist that was situated underneath the mattress. Each time I was close to falling into a dream, the sudden discomfort awoke me. For hours, I was as stubborn as a mule not succumbing to the ache and eventually, I was able to gently slip into sleep.
I awoke, in agony. My full body ached. I began to undress, picking clothes from my body like I was pulling petals from a lily flower that wasn’t entirely blossomed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and allowed myself to gaze for more than what one would’ve thought modest. I trailed a single finger down my naked body, stretching my neck like a swan to inspect myself. Like a bruised apple, I was black and blue with blood begging to burst free of my skin. A bed of feathers had altered into a bed of rocks. However, this somehow didn’t bother me as much as staring at my own naked body. I wondered if this body would ever feel like my own.
Without any notice, Charles burst through the door and jolted his glare towards me, with a menacing smile on his face. I tried to protect my modesty, but it seemed he did not bother a second look. Like an ape, he flung over my mattress and lifted a blue sapphire as little as a pea. He chuckled to himself, tossing the gemstone in the air and catching it. I couldn’t believe that it was something so small that caused me so much distress. Heat rushed to my cheeks, if something so small had caused me so much ache then it was evident that I had never been touched before. He’d found the virgin, the sacrificial lamb, and in a way he was obsessed with me. He gotten what he wanted; a virgin wife, free for him to corrupt. He paraded behind me, his hot breath in my ear. “Congratulations Diana, you passed the test.”
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